


Uncharted (Spook)

by Ebhenah



Series: Fictober 2018 [7]
Category: Original Work, Spook&WraithOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebhenah/pseuds/Ebhenah
Summary: Fictober18 Day 7Prompt: "No worries, we still have time."Original FictionRating: T Mentions of death, war, family seperation, LGBTQ2SIA+ relationships





	Uncharted (Spook)

**Author's Note:**

> The Spook and Wraith Fictober stories were a way for me to get to know characters that appear in another story I am working on, which is a Time Travel AU Fanfiction, so there have been some minor alterations to make the source material a little less obvious (although it isn't exactly a mystery for the ages). It has been a fun challenge to tell stories about these characters without relying on the MOST identifiable things about them, and I think it has allowed me to build a much stronger friendship for them.

He found her curled up in front of the bright and shiny door to what was currently a store room. Head resting on her knees, arms hugging her legs loosely, dwarfed in the big uniform jacket his fiance had wrapped around her when they'd pulled her out of empty space. Her pale purple ears tipped down in a way he'd never seen before- although, to be fair, he'd only known her a couple of weeks. She looked so young... and small... and lost. Wordlessly, he sank to the floor beside her, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder so she'd know she wasn't completely alone.

"I grew up on this ship," she said into space between her chest and her knees after a few moments, "did you know that?"

"I didn't, but it makes sense," he answered.

"Yeah," she lifted her head, her eyes were red rimmed, the markings on her skin faded and dull, "these were our quarters until I was 10. Then we spent a few years on the surface, then we moved into the transport- converting it into a portable city. Getting ready for the mission, you know. When I got married, we lived on my little ship for a full year, just the two of us... and after that, we split our time between this ship and the transport. Even when I lived somewhere else, I was here... so much of the time."

"It must be disconcerting," he said softly.

"Yeah," she laughed, a soft, bitter sound, "I feel like I know every line of this ship. Every knock and hum of the engines. Every system. Better than the people running it, probably. I learned so much here... or I will... I guess. This time travel thing is messing with my head."

"I thought you had a pretty good grasp of it," he sighed, "you were the only one who never seemed rattled."

"It was easy to seem confident before," she answered, "I spent my entire life training for that mission. I knew all the variables. I knew all the vectors, all the math, all the history. It was like a play I'd spent years rehearsing- say my lines, hit my marks... take my bow."

"But I messed that up?"

She turned her face to look at him, mustering a sad smile, "I'm not going to complain that you saved my life. I'm not quite that spoiled."

"You went off script to save me first," he pointed out.

"Wasn't REALLY off script," she confessed, "I'd still done the math, explored the variables, plotted the vectors. Your death in my past was pointless and had virtually no impact on the outcomes of the bigger picture- It just caused people I love a hell of a lot of pain. Your LIFE- now that could make HUGE differences, for the better. We need brave, capable pilots. As many as we can get our hands on... and he needs you. Even if nothing else changed, that would be reason enough to save you."

"It's very poignant," he said softly, "how much you love him."

"I have a big heart," she shrugged, "and the version of him that I know- he..." She shrugged, her voice choking off as she swiped at tears, "he... god... she would never have been who she was without him. He's the person she loved the most, aside from me. He gave her a home, a family- when she had nothing. That's reason enough... but he helped raise me, too. He's family... and he's lost far too much. I could give him back YOU. That's almost as good as getting her back for myself."

"And you think I could let the person who did THAT, for me- for the man I love- die? Either he told all the wrong stories about me when you were growing up, or you weren't listening."

"It was supposed to be impossible," she sighed, "I'd accepted that it was impossible. I'd die, but the others would survive and get to go home... and we'd have made the changes we needed. One life instead of BILLIONS. It was worth it. I was ready. I was kind of... looking forward to it. It's so hard to breathe without her. I could do it before- surrounded by people who knew her and loved her, who knew us, who knew ME... people who could remind me of who I am outside this chasm where she used to be. But now- my wife hasn't even been BORN yet. My parents are KIDS. I mean, I like them and we get along and I think they might even love me a little bit- because someday I could be their daughter, again... if everything works out just so- but it wouldn't be the me that I am. I don't belong here. The creaky old war ship I grew up on is a shiny beacon of hope and peace... and it is making this NOISE that is just outside of human hearing but driving me crazy and I know EXACTLY how to fix it, but the tool I need won't be invented for ten more years! And everything is like that- so familiar, so different. My best friend's father is younger than me and invited me to go out drinking with his friends- do you know how odd that feels? I don't know how to do this without anyone who knows me here to ground me."

"I know you," he replied, "not as well as them... but I do. We've spent a lot of time together, you and I. I've watched ALL your little videos- including a couple of very inappropriate ones- you have some seriously strange boundaries. I've seen you with your family. I've seen you pull the man I love out of a PTSD flashback using memories of a coping ritual he doesn't have yet. I've seen you crack jokes and pick up women and scandalize your father and fight and fly and cobble together an engine out of junk and dance in open space because you think it is so beautiful to create something in nothingness. I've been paying attention. I wasn't there for your history, but I see the end result. I see the remarkable woman who took her own grief and used it as fuel to save others from going through it. I see you... and in you I see the brush strokes of the kids you mentioned, and the man I love, and the rest of the little motley crew you and your family conscripted into rewriting your past."

She managed a watery smile and snuggled into the jacket, her nostrils flaring daintily as she sniffled and breathed in the scent of her father's best friend, the man that raised the refugee she'd married and mourned. The refugee of a massacre that likely would never occur now, thanks to her devotion. "I'm glad I saved you. I see why he loves you so much."

"Eventually," he said, wiping a tear from her cheek, "we'll have the technology to send you back to your own timeline. To send you home. In the meantime, you will stay with us."

"No, I couldn't do that," she argued, "you've only just been reunited. I won't impose on that. I'll... stay in my quarters on the transport. It's the one little slice of home I still have."

"Alright, as long as you PROMISE not to lock us out," he insisted, "me and you? We've got to stick together. We're the only living ghosts that KNOW we are living ghosts. We've got to have each other's backs. Right?"

"Living ghosts?"

"We were supposed to die, and we know that... but we didn't. To use your play analogy- we are improvising from here on out. That takes guts," he smiled, "but I've seen you mouth off to the biggest drunk in the bar and laugh when he took a swing, so I know you have guts."

She snorted, "he wasn't that big... and I am tougher than a human my size would be."

"You can do this. Until we can send you home, you can make a life here."

"We should probably get back," she sighed, digging a handkerchief out of the huge jacket. She knew exactly which pocket to check. Sometimes the littlest details were the most telling of how a short acquaintanceship for them was the tail end of a lifetime of close ties for her. "He's probably freezing without this."

"He's fine," he assured her, "hang on to it. Give it back when it doesn't smell like home anymore."

She blushed, her lavender skin coloring deep blue over her entire face, the markings taking on a raspberry color, making her pale pink lashes and brows stand out in contrast. "You figured that out, huh?"

"I've been known to do the same thing when he's on mission," he confessed, smiling.

"I have no idea what to do... I was supposed to be nothing but a memory by now. Instead, I have to build a whole life from scratch. I don't know how to do that." She stood, stuffing her hands into the pockets and crunching her shoulders in a way that made her look half her age and more human that he'd seen her in days, despite her alien features.

"No worries, we still have time," he answered, regaining his feet, "you'll figure it out."

She rolled her eyes, "really? We still have time?"

"Well, it's TRUE," he laughed, slapping an arm around her in comfort and solidarity, "I mean, you aren't even going to be BORN for almost a decade!"

"Thank-you," she whispered, "for saving me. It was a dumb risk and you shouldn't have done it- but thanks anyway. You're the only reason I still have time."

"Right back at you. Wanna go mortify your future parents with one of your tmi stories?"

"Sounds good- did I ever tell you about the time I got a part time job at a brothel?"

"No, but I can just imagine how much trouble you caused..."

She leaned into him as they walked, spinning tales of her past adventures in the years to come- one living ghost to another.


End file.
